#eat

The natural way of life is perfect as it, seeds die so flowers can bloom, and in time they give themselves back to the earth. ↗

— Martin Suarez

#departing #gone #life #life-lessons #suffering-clinging

Tears are another river that takes us home. We become alive with tears. There isn’t a chance to return to sleep when we are weeping. ↗

— David Paul Kirkpatrick

#life #sorrow #death

Heroes do not dwell in a time of peace; heroes are hardened in a kiln against the sorrows. Their troubles sharpen the blade and make it gleaming. The glint becomes a brightness that is raised high on a hill, allowing women and men to see beyond themselves. For light swallows darkness. Truth buries death. Heroes are not born. They are filled by Music. ↗

— David Paul Kirkpatrick

#hill #love #sword #death

It is said that the dead are infinitely patient, although it is usually said by the living, and how would they know? ↗

— Lee Battersby

#humor #life #patience #death

Dying only means moving into a nicer house. We have only gone into the next room. We still are what we have always been. We aren’t far away. We are only on the other side of the pathway. ↗

— Kerry Okines

#poetry #death

For we are all walking each other to our deaths, and the journey between footsteps makes up our lives. ↗

— Ally Condie

#dictatorship #fantasy #love #young-adult #death

Tombstones covered the dale, the smooth marble surfaces bright. She had spent days here as a teenager, though not out of any awareness of mortality. Like every adolescent, she intended to live forever. ↗

— Thomm Quackenbush

#cemetery #death #immortality #teenager #death

Tucker was my safe place for three years, my secure dock in a sea of indecision as I dealt with my father’s illness and death. And now I had to sink or swim. It was time to let go…and move on. Slowly, I pushed off from the dock that was Tucker Montgomery and prepared to swim…praying I wouldn’t drown. ↗

— Melissa Brown

#death

Sometimes from out the folded paper the pale clerk takes a ring - the finger it was meant for, perhaps, moulders in the grave; a bank-note sent in swiftest charity - he whom it would relieve, nor eats nor hungers any more; pardon for those who died despairing; hope for those who died unhoping; good tidings for those who died stifled by unrelieved calamities. On errands of life, these letters speed to death. Ah, Bartleby! Ah, humanity! ↗

— Herman Melville

#letters #death

Blimey, Neville! There's a time and place for getting a smart mouth! ↗

— J.K. Rowling

#death